


Eyes Without A Face

by PrincessTurk



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Memories, Personal Growth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-08-10 00:36:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20126464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessTurk/pseuds/PrincessTurk
Summary: Zack watches over Cloud and helps direct him to a new path. Angst, yaoi, implied relations, rated M just in case. No lemon.





	Eyes Without A Face

**Author's Note:**

> Old request/gift fic for Yusuke kun! Title inspired by Billy Idol's song "Eyes Without A Face".
> 
> *Published on FFnet on March 10, 2011.

It had been too long - much too long, since Cloud had seen his face. Tasted his tears. Even still, Zack haunted his dreams. His smile, his eyes. Cloud couldn't shake the images that replayed over and over in his brain. Whether he was asleep or awake, it was evident that he couldn't forget about that man. Cloud had been alone for some time now. Little by little, the darkness grew. It wrapped around him and taunted him as he slept.

It was time to wake up.

_"Heya, Cloud! You look a little down today. Sorry."_

Cloud rolled over in bed and grumbled. Zack was always apologizing these days. Sometimes he took the apologizes to heart. Other times, he brushed them aside like cobwebs that he routinely had to remove from the rafters in his attic. With one foot sticking out from beneath the covers, he flopped an arm over the empty pillow next to his own and sighed. Mornings like this seemed to happen often, and today was just another day when he didn't feel like getting out of bed.

_"You have to eat sometime, you know."_

"I know. Don't feel like it."

He heard Zack scoff at this - almost felt his breath on the back of his neck, his mouth trailing upward and closing over his earlobe. There was the lingering memory of strong but gentle hands on his body: one hand on his hip and the other over his heart. A leg draped lazily over his. Slow, steady breathing that usually turned into pants and gasps as Cloud reached back and down, his hand caressing hard flesh that pressed into the curved skin beneath his tightly toned ass.

_"Mmm. You're thinking about that again, aren't you? If you're that lonely, you should just go find someone. I'm sure lots of guys would love to be with you. What about Reno?"_

It was Cloud's turn to scoff. He smirked. "Reno would never give me the time of day. Besides, I only want you," he said. No answer. The air was stale and thick, weighing heavily on his chest. He had to get out of this place for a while, but he knew that wherever he went, Zack would keep following him. There were reminders of him everywhere, from the hallway where they had drunkenly made love once - to the small garden outside where they had planted vegetables.

The other day, Cloud had been rummaging through the bathroom cabinet in search of an old bottle of Zack's shampoo. When he found it, covered in dust that was five years thick, a single raven hair was trapped beneath the cap. He had clutched the dusty bottle to his chest and slumped back against the wall behind him, knees bent and head down. Light slightly reflected off of the glossy strand, a memory of a beautiful head of hair that used to tickle his neck in the middle of the night as they lay curled together in bed. Hair that he used to clutch at with all of his might while Zack was nestled between his thighs. Hair that always smelled of pleasant earth and the mountain air.

He uncapped the bottle and pulled on the hair gently until it was pinched between his pale fingers. He tried to convince himself to throw it into the trash can, but couldn't bring himself to do such a thing. Instead, he had carried it to the bedroom, unzipped his pillowcase and stashed it inside.

Relics. Memories. Whispers and sighs that he'd never experience again.

The memory of the day that Zack had died didn't bother Cloud as much as other memories. Sometimes he strained himself to try to recall certain words that were said during their many dinners together; other times, the memories were as clear as day. He found out, very shortly after Zack's death, that the man's earthly quirks didn't bother him as much. In fact, he began to wish for one more moment where he could balk at Zack's habit of not cleaning up a dish immediately after eating a meal. He'd love to pick up one of Zack's soaking-wet towels off of the floor again. Fingernail clippings in the ashtray on the coffee table? No problem.

The most annoying quirk of all was Zack's refusal to be alive again.

It wasn't that he was refusing - no. It was more or less not a choice for either one of them to make. No amount of blame that Cloud put on himself would bring Zack home again, though he blamed himself every day for his death.

_"Not your fault, Spiky."_

Cloud rolled his eyes. "If I wouldn't have called you when I did, you wouldn't have died," he said. He curled up on his side and clutched the pillow beside him, memories of the day Zack died surrounding him and threatening to pull him under the waves of sorrow once more. Zack had been distracted by a phone call from Cloud while he zoomed in and out of traffic - the first and only time he had been allowed to drive Fenrir. After much pestering and begging, Cloud had finally gave up and let Zack have the keys. Now, Fenrir sat parked in the garage, gathering dust. Sometimes he peeked beneath the shroud that covered it; a bloodstain here, a scratch there. He couldn't bring himself to repair the damage, to erase the physical scars placed there by concrete and asphalt.

_"I always loved hearing your voice, though. I didn't mind."_

Cloud felt a sneer sneaking across his upper lip. Bullshit. It was all bullshit. And yet...

Zack had a small brown mole above his upper lip. Cloud figured that it was quite probable that no one else, save for Zack's mother, had ever noticed it. He liked to seek it out in the morning light: faint, hard to see - but it was there. His hair stayed in jet-black spikes even when wet, and Cloud liked to tease him about how his blond spikes were spikier. Zack hummed during breakfast, during lunch. He hummed during sex at times - but they were the throaty hums then. Everywhere that Zack went, a hum followed... and it drove Cloud _nuts_.

_"Get up."_

Cloud got up. "What now?"

_"You want to get out of here for a while?"_

"Yeah. It'd be nice."

The blond waited for a reply, but Zack was silent again. He busied himself getting dressed, telling himself that it was always one leg in first, then the other. Over the head. Arms through there. His socks and boots, same thing. Walking. One foot in front of the other. Just go.

He made it to the garage and pressed the button to make the door go up. It whirred and finally clicked into place, letting him know that it was safe to enter. He stood next to the shrouded piece of machinery. Touching the material gingerly, he held his breath. With one brisk yank, he pulled the shroud completely off and stared at Fenrir for a moment.

He let out his breath.

The first thing he noticed was that being in the garage with Fenrir out in the open didn't affect him as it once did. Sure, there was the blood, dents and scratches - but he was finally able to see Fenrir for what it truly was: Just another relic from the past. The second thing he noticed was that his hands weren't shaking uncontrollably as they usually did when he dared to peek beneath the shroud. Somehow, he was at peace. Maybe it was time.

_"It is, Cloud. It is time. It's been too long, and you need to move on."_

Cloud's lip trembled as he raised one leg and straddled Fenrir, easily sliding comfortably onto the seat. He gripped the handlebars, remembering how everything had felt so many years ago. Fenrir had been his pride and joy from the first day he had bought it. He inserted the key and ignored his quaking shoulders as he turned on the ignition and revved it up. He ignored the tear that he felt falling down his cheek as he backed out of the garage and slowly made his way to the pavement. Soon, he was back in the game, remembering the old feeling of the wind blowing through his hair. He took a left turn and went off-road, dust and rocks spewing out behind him. Faster. Faster.

He tried to ignore the memory of Zack's legs tucked behind his, the raven-haired man's body pressed so tightly against him, but he could still feel his arms around his waist as he took sharp curves. A kiss on the back of his sweaty, gritty neck. He could still feel Zack resting his head against the middle of his back as they drove back home after a day in the desert clowning around and sparring.

"Zack..."

_"I'm here. I'll always be here, Cloud."_

Cloud let the dam burst, his tears finally coming at full force and blinding his sight. "God damn it, Zack!" he screamed. "I want to leave it all behind, but I don't want to leave you behind!" He brought Fenrir to a screeching halt, sending rocks flying. "All the things we did, all the things we said we'd do. What happened to them? When you died, all those things went with you! You promised! You promised you'd be there forever!"

_"And I will be. Just not in the way I should be, and I'm sorry."_

"You should have taken me with you," Cloud spat angrily, crouching down onto the ground and slamming his fist into the dirt. "Fuck this. Why haven't I just ended it already?" He looked up at the sky - the color of Zack's eyes - and let out a primal scream. The action was so intense that his head swam. He hit the ground, listless and unconscious, passing out from pure emotional exhaustion.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hey, yo. Cloudy boy, you alright?"

Cloud slowly opened one eye. "Hmm?" he mumbled. Colors swirled, his head still swimming from the exhaustion he had brought upon himself. Red and blue-green swirled together, coupled with the shade of black. A long, silver zipper shone in the sun and pale skin finally came into murky view. He lifted his eyes to gaze at the swirling blue-green sea in front of him. "S-so beautiful," he mumbled. The waves came onto the shore and pulled back in a rhythm.

"Ha. First time anyone's called me _that_ before."

"Huh?" Cloud shook his head and squinted to clear his vision. Reno. The sea was nothing but a pair of eyes. Eyes without a face, he finally realized. "What are you doing here?" he asked cautiously. The Turk was usually up to no good and always seemed to wreak havoc wherever he went.

"A little birdie told me that you might need help, so here I am."

"A little birdie, huh?"

Reno chuckled. "Yeah. Or, you could just call it a Turk's naturally-honed instinct. Whatever. I'm here, though, right?" he said gently, offering a smile. He reached out his hand. "Can you stand?"

"I... I can try," Cloud answered weakly, still not quite sure about what in Gaia was going on. He grabbed onto Reno's hand, grasping it with all of his might as he pulled himself up and was pulled in return. He stumbled. Fell. Was caught.

"Whoa there," Reno said softly, his breath catching in his throat as Cloud's head landed against his chest. Pulled him close. "You're still very weak. You shouldn't drive Fenrir home."

Cloud barely heard Reno's voice over the sound of the man's heart beating against his ear. It thumped wildly inside his chest, beating out a rhythm that quite possibly matched his own. _Just hold me_. The arms were different. His scent was different - and by Gaia, even his heart sounded different. There was a sense of serenity wrapped about Cloud, though - something that he hadn't truly felt in a very long time. He laughed, despite the tears that threatened to fall once more.

"This... little birdie of yours..." Cloud said. "Did he happen to say anything else to you?"

Reno lifted a hand to Cloud's chin and tilted it up. "Yeah. He said not to worry. Said he'd always be here, but you gotta move on, yo," he said.

There was that smile again.

"Take me home?" Cloud finally said, something shifting inside of his soul. Happiness moving in, perhaps? Whatever it was, he was taking Zack's advice starting today. Today, he was going to begin picking up the pieces of a life he had left behind long ago - one that had ceased to exist when Zack had died.

Tomorrow, he would wake up. One foot in front of the other, as always.

But this time, he'd walk a new path.

Perhaps it would be Reno by his side after all, as Zack had proposed in his head earlier that day. Somehow, Zack always knew.

**Author's Note:**

> There really is a mole above Zack's lip. I noticed this while playing through Crisis Core for the millionth time.


End file.
